The Dark Moon and the Lotus
by Baka Gaijin30
Summary: Repost. AU. Two monarchs, each living sheltered lives, were confronted with old age and shocked by what they saw. Each chose different paths in response. What if they met?
1. Chapter 1

The Dark Moon and the Lotus

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the Sailor Moon series.

Author's Note: This story contains spoilers for the end of the Sailor Moon Super S season and the first six episodes of Sailor Stars. This will be my first non-shoujoai story and my first non-romance. Even so, I hope some of you at least will find it interesting, and reviews are always welcome.

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She took the soft brush and looked at the cosmetics spread out before her. A smile teased her lips as she chose just the right shade of red, a deep crimson, and ever so delicately used the brush to apply it to her lips. Next came the lavender eye shadow, then the blush. She had a different brush for each, and she never used the same brush twice.

She turned to her left and picked up an exquisite pearl necklace. She fixed it around her neck, thinking to herself that it was just the thing to offset her own perfectly white teeth. Finally, she stood up and adjusted her gown, pulling the top of it down just a bit to show off her cleavage but not enough to be considered vulgar.

At last she was ready. She turned and stood before her great mirror, her oldest and truest friend. She was loved and admired by all, but only her mirror shared her sorrows, her pain, and her loneliness. She had to look her best therefore for her mirror.

After spending a sufficient enough time gazing upon her beauty, she turned away from her childhood friend. It was then she heard the elegant music coming from the great ballroom. With a smile, she left her chamber. She was pampered, sheltered, near pathologically self absorbed and spoiled; all the things a great queen should be.

"My beautiful queen, Lady Neherenia," the man with the neatly-trimmed mustache and powdered wig said as he clicked his heels and bowed in her presence. The Queen of the New Moon nodded regally to him, noting with satisfaction his fresh-pressed uniform and the beautiful lady in waiting standing next to him. She would permit no ugliness, no imperfection, in herself or anyone else within her court or in her presence. All had to be neat, beautiful, spotless and perfect, just like her reflection in her great mirror.

Entering the great ballroom, she saw all the nobles in their finery. As she felt the eyes of all fall upon her and her beauty, she was filled with an overwhelming joy and contentment. Closing her eyes, she savored the moment as a dream was born deep within her heart.

If only things could always be perfect and beautiful like this. If only she could hold onto this moment forever. If only…

If only she could be beautiful **forever.**

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He watched silently as each of them left. First Bharika, then Baspa, Mahanama and Asvajit, each of them in turn expressed their anger, disgust and disappointment in him for what he had done. He watched as the four walked up the small hill, stopped, and took one last look back.

Turning away from them, he turned to the fifth of his former traveling companions, gazing upon him passively as he waited for the man to say his peace.

"What happened to you?"

It was a simple enough question Kayundinya was asking, but the man it was addressed to didn't answer. Instead, he noted the tone of sadness and disillusionment in his companion's voice, and decided rather to remain silent and let him have his say. As their eyes met once again, Kayundinya continued.

"I remember," he began, "When I and the other Brahmin scholars were summoned to the palace by your father the king on your naming ceremony. The others all predicted a two-fold destiny for you. They all declared to King Suddhodana that you would either grow up to be a Chakravarti, a supreme king, or else that you would renounce the world and become a supreme religious leader. I alone predicted that you would not become a king, that instead you would become an enlightened one."

Kayundinya turned away from him, looking down as he continued, "Your father the king's reaction was to be expected. He banished us and all holy men from the court, and tried to shelter you from the truths of the world. I never gave up hope though. Not once in the twenty-nine years you spent sheltered away by your father, not even when I heard you'd married and had a son. And when you did depart, I, and the others, were waiting. We've been with you now for six years. Six years of self mortification. Six years of sleeping out in the elements and starving ourselves to near-death in the quest for truth. And now…"

He turned to face him once again, his face contorted with sadness and pain, "And now you accept milk and rice porridge offered you by a village girl, and then go to bathe in a river? You break your fast, and you abandon both your austerities and the search. Why? I **believed** in you! I put my faith in you, we all put our faith in you, and you have betrayed us. Just tell me why at least."

He looked at Kayundinya silently for several seconds before taking a deep breath to center himself. "Kayundinya," he said, his voice quiet and calm, "When I was a child, I watched a man plow a field with my father. As I watched him plow the field, toiling back and forth in the dirt, I slipped into a natural meditative state, a state in which I was happy and at peace. There was no pain involved, no starvation or self-deprivation."

"For the last six years, we've tried to attain enlightenment through rigorous self-mortifications. But… What if that's the problem? What if self-mortification isn't a path to enlightenment but, rather, a hindrance? Think of a sitar. If the string is too loose, it will not play. Too tight, and the string will break. The answer lies in between, a middle way."

Kayundinya shook his head, "No! To say that… Then the last six years were for _nothing_?"

"No, not for nothing," he answered. "Not if it gets us to the point where we recognize our error and remedy it."

"Not us, _you_," Kayundinya answered. "I can no longer stay. I, too, have come to the conclusion that you have lost the path. I was a fool to have predicted you would one day become an enlightened one, and I see that now."

The man looked away sadly, "I'm sorry you feel that way," he said, "I will not try to stop you from going with the others."

The older man looked at the former prince, "And you," he asked, "What will you do? Are you going to go back to the palace?"

He shook his head, "No," he answered. "I plan on sitting there," he said, pointing to a nearby pipal tree, "I'm going there. I'm going to sit there, beneath that tree, until I either find the truth or die trying."

Kayundinya looked from the younger man to the tree and back. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. What more was there to say? Heartbroken, he turned away from his companion of six years and left, joining up with his fellow ascetics and leaving behind the fallen prince.

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Queen Neherenia at last returned to her royal chamber, her face still blushing from the adoration of her subjects. The dream deep within her heart had grown stronger. To be young and beautiful forever, to always be loved by her subjects; such a wondrous dream must surely be worthy of being answered. Surely, if anyone deserved eternal youth it was her, the fairest queen of all.

She turned to her great mirror. The mirror that had been with her since childhood, that had watched her grow, witnessed her smiles and her tears, and had never abandoned her. If anyone could tell her if her wonderful dream could come true, it was her mirror.

She stepped before its shining immaculate surface, gazed upon her own loveliness, and smiled.

"Mirror, mirror," she said happily, "Tell me my beautiful future. My dream is for this beauty to be eternal. Please tell me the end of this dream."

The mirror went dark. Queen Neherenia bent forward slightly to gaze into the dark reflective surface, only to scream out in terror in repulsion as she was confronted with a face, _her_ face, wizened and covered in wrinkles.

"W… What is this?" she cried out, her heart racing in fear as she looked away from the hag in the mirror and saw her royal chamber begin to change before her eyes; once shining marble columns suddenly crumbling beneath cobwebs and her dresser covered in layers of webs and thick dust. She was hyperventilating in dread as she looked down in dread at her hands, only to see her once dainty smooth hands old and wrinkled.

"Th… This is," she looked away from her hands back to the mirror, seeing her aged and white-haired reflection looking back at her, "How I will end up?"

Disillusionment and pain filled the great queen. Her dream, her beautiful dream, was all for nothing?

"Dream, dream, don't doubt it."

She looked up suddenly. The words had come from the mirror.

"A dream of dreams that dreaming children have. Dream, dream, don't doubt it. A dream of dreams that dreaming children have."

Over and over, the words repeated themselves, until the mirror once again went dark. As Queen Neherenia watched, one final image appeared in its dark surface.

It was a circus.

"Dream, dream, don't doubt…"

Neherenia covered her ears and closed her eyes as she sank to the ground on her knees. She screamed, tears of pain and anguish rolling down her cheeks as her dreams died. All would grow old, including her. All would decay and crumble to dust, her own beauty included. She began to sob; her mirror, her only friend, had betrayed her. Instead of showing her eternal beauty, it had showed her old age and transience. There was now no one she could turn to, not even her mirror.

"No one," she wept, "Is there no one I might confide to now? No one who might understand this anguish, no one who might have an answer to my sufferings?"

As if in response, the royal chamber around her became filled with a warm light. Looking up, Queen Neherenia saw a new image in her mirror; Earth. A glowing light seemed to emanate from one of the planet's peninsulas.

Neherenia wiped the tears from her face. Hope was once more born within her. Someone understood, and perhaps that someone could help her. Taking a last look around her to make sure all within her chamber was neatly in place, she entered the mirror.

A few seconds later, she exited, and was immediately assaulted by lights, colors, and aromas strange and foreign to her. As the Queen of the New Moon, Neherenia had never known just how bright the sun could be. She shielded her eyes from the intensity, and only then became aware of the throng of onlookers staring wide-eyed at her.

She had exited through a mirror being sold by a merchant in one of the many market places of Bodhi Gaya, a small province within the subcontinent of India. At seeing such a magnificently stunning woman as Queen Neherenia exit from a mirror, all within the market took her for a goddess and, once their initial shock had subsided, all fell to the ground cowering before her. Neherenia searched the crowd, but couldn't find the source of the glow she'd seen from her great mirror. Frowning, she made her way through the masses, leaving the still fearful market goers behind as she took a dirt road and headed east.

A short time later, with the village far behind her, she came upon a strange sight; five men, all rail-thin and covered in dirt and filth, coming in her direction. They were wearing rags, and all looked angry and bitter about something. Even though they were still quite a ways away from her, Queen Neherenia still winced from the stench the five of them gave off.

One of the men, the oldest among them, was the first to notice her. Sighing heavily, he left the others to come over and address her.

"I see news has already reached the court," he said sadly. "No doubt the king has sent you for the prince. You'll find him that way," he added, pointing to a forest over to his right.

Neherenia tilted her head to the side; what in the world was this filthy old man going on about? She looked in the direction he was pointing in however, and felt her breath catch in her throat as she saw the light, the same light she'd seen glowing from her mirror.

Kayundinya noted the perplexed look in the beautiful stranger's face and realized he must've been mistaken about her being sent by the palace. He was about to apologize, when the woman suddenly turned and began running in the direction of the woods where the prince was. As she disappeared from sight, he turned with a shrug and joined the others.

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Queen Neherenia ran as fast as her legs could take her, the warm glowing light acting as her beacon. Finally, out of breath, she stopped. Standing in the strange forest, her heart feeling like it was ready to burst out of her chest, she looked.

There, beneath a tree, sat a man meditating. He looked to be thin, and from the length of his legs Neherenia guessed that he was six foot when standing. As she came closer, her foot broke a twig, interrupting the man's meditations. He opened his eyes, and looked at her.

The two of them said nothing, each taking in the other's appearance. Finally, after several minutes, Neherenia broke the silence.

"Do you find me ugly?" she asked.

The man raised an eyebrow, "Why do you come out here, and interrupt me in my meditations, to ask such a question?"

"I am a great queen," Neherenia explained, "Loved by all my subjects for my looks. Yet I appear here, before you, and you show no awe whatsoever at being in the presence of one such as I."

"Perhapse," the man answered, "Because I too am of royal blood, and thus the presence of a queen such as yourself holds less significance. Or perhapse because, after years of toil, I have achieved a certain level of control over the lusts of the flesh. But," he said, leaning forward as he gazed at her intensely, "You didn't come all the way out here just to flaunt your beauty to a poor holy man, did you?"

Queen Neherenia narrowed her eyes, "No, I did not. But before I explain myself and my troubles, allow me to introduce myself. I am Queen Neherenia of the New Moon Kingdom."

The man sitting beneath the tree bowed his head politely, "Greeting, oh great queen," he said, "My name is Siddhartha Gautama."

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-To Be Continued-

End Notes: This idea came to me after watching the end of Super S. Both Neherenia and the young Siddhartha were shocked and horrified when they were confronted by old age, yet both chose radically different answers to their aversions. Siddhartha was at a crossroads when he sat beneath the pipal tree and vowed not to rise again until he found the truth, just as Neherenia was at a crossroads when she was confronted by the truth by her mirror. It dawned on me; what if they'd met? What would the conversation between the future evil queen and the future Buddha have been like? This story will be my attempt at an answer. Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

-The Dark Moon and the Lotus-

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the Sailor Moon series.

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Queen Neherenia gave the man a funny look, "Siddhartha?" she asked, "That's sort of a funny name for a prince, isn't it?"

Siddhartha smirked, "Perhapse," he answered, "But then, Neherenia isn't exactly a common place name either, is it?"

Neherenia turned away from him, "Fair enough," she muttered under her breath. Looking around, she saw that they were both in a dark nook of the forest, the main path separated from them by several trees. Several birds flew overhead in formation, and nearby she saw a snake slowly make its way across the underbrush, slithering over a fallen tree limb as it disappeared behind some tall grass. She turned back to Siddhartha, eyeing him suspiciously.

"You say you're a prince," she said, holding her head high as she looked down at him, "Tell me, is this your kingdom?"

Rather than being offended at the question, Siddhartha laughed good naturedly. "No," he finally answered, "My father King Suddhodana is the head of the Shakya clan, and the kingdom he rules is several leagues from here in Lumbini, north of the holy city of Varanasi. I was brought up to be his successor to the throne, surrounded by wealth and luxury for twenty-nine years until…"

"You were usurped?" Queen Neherenia asked, interrupting the former prince, "Overthrown?"

"No," Siddhartha answered, "Until I left of my own accord."

Neherenia looked at the thin man dressed in rags sitting before her in disbelief. A prince, pampered and rich, giving up all to come out to a place like this? Why was she led here by her mirror? Her childhood friend had already betrayed her once, showing her that her dreams of eternal youth and beauty were all for naught. Was this some sort of a sick joke the glass was playing on her? The man sitting before her couldn't possibly understand her plight, nor could he be of any service whatsoever to her.

To turn his back on opulence and wealth, his father the king, his kingdom and his inheritance, the buffoon sitting before her must be mad. Either that, or a complete and utter fool, for who else but a clown would…

A clown?

Her mind raced back to the image of the circus shown her in the darkened mirror. Besides jugglers, lion tamers and acrobats, _clowns_ also reside in circuses. Could the circus have been some sort of oblique reference to the clown before her?

"Dream, dream, don't doubt it," she muttered to herself, "A dream of dreams that dreaming children have."

Siddhartha looked quizzically at the queen, "What was that?" he asked, "Some sort of mantra?"

She needed to know for sure. Like it or not, insane or stupid, this man may yet hold answers for her. To know for sure though, she would have to temporarily swallow her pride and stay on Earth a bit longer.

"No," she finally answered, "Just something I heard once. Tell me; exactly what would cause a prince and heir to a great throne to turn his back on such an inheritance?"

Siddhartha took a deep breath and answered, "An old man."

"What?"

"When I was born, it was predicted that I would either grow up to be a great king or a holy man. My father, in an attempt to cheat fate and ensure my ascent to his throne, banished all holy men from the court and attempted to shelter me. I never saw pain, suffering, or anything else that might set my mind to wander after eternal truths."

"After a while though, the palace became a prison to me. Yes, eventually I was married and fathered a child, but still I was not allowed outside. By my twenty-ninth year, I'd had enough. I told… **Demanded** of my father that I be allowed outside the palace grounds. In the weeks leading up to my first excursion outside, my father King Suddhodana tried to take steps to ensure I'd encounter no unpleasantries by having his men sweep the streets of all that was ugly, diseased or decrepit."

He looked up again at Queen Neherenia. As their eyes met, he continued, "He failed. Upon my first excursion outside the royal palace with one of my father's advisors, I encountered an old man. His hair was white as the full moon, deep wrinkles ran throughout his toothless face, and as I watched he painfully made his way through the village we visited, leaning heavily upon his gnarled cane. I turned to my father the king's advisor and asked what was wrong with the poor man. That's when I was told the truth; he was old, and all men, myself included, would likewise one day grow old just like the man who stood before me."

Neherenia's eyes widened, "W… What was your reaction?"

Siddhartha looked down at his hands thoughtfully, "Shock mostly," he answered, "Repulsion, fear…"

"I see," the queen said, her voice barely above a whisper. The man sitting before her may be a clown, but he _understood_. Somehow, her mirror had led her to the one person who understood, and ironically enough that one person was the clown seated before her. "Why?"

He looked up from his hands to once again gaze upon his beautiful visitor, "Why what? Why did I feel such feelings at the sight of an old man?"

"No," Queen Neherenia said, "I… I can actually understand that part. What I don't understand is why the sight of the old man would cause you to then give up your throne to become a… Well, for want of a better word, a bum?"

Siddhartha allowed a sigh to escape him. "Bum," he murmured. "Well, after that first time out of the palace, I went out three more times. On my subsequent visits I saw a cripple, a decaying corpse, and a holy man begging for coins along the roadside. My eyes were opened; I now knew of suffering and, more than anything, I wished to learn how to overcome suffering and the pain of human existence. I left the palace in order to try to find the answers I was searching for. I took up with five ascetics, and for the last six years we have lived lives of denial and self-mortification, including severe fasts and not bathing. There have been times during these past six years when I've been near death's door in my search for the truth, and..."

"Wait, I don't understand," Neherenia interrupted, "How could you find the way to overcome suffering _through_ suffering? Does one treat a hangnail by breaking the finger?"

Siddhartha scowled at her a bit, but quickly stopped himself when he noticed the look in her eyes; she wasn't mocking him, she was sincerely trying to understand. He could also sense that she was greatly troubled. She'd come out to this secluded woods for help, and whatever her problem was it was no doubt causing her distress.

He closed his eyes and breathed in, focusing on his breath as he centered himself again. Breathing out, he opened his eyes once more and focused on the queen before him.

"To solve such a large problem as human suffering, one must learn to focus and calm the mind. The body naturally fights against the will, so I and my companions tried to force our bodies to submit to our wills through our harsh severities."

Neherenia tilted her head to the side. "Oh," she muttered. She still didn't fully grasp what he was trying to accomplish, but thought it prudent for the moment not to push the point. She looked around once again at the forest they were both in. "You said you've been traveling with five others. Tell me; where are they?"

A fleeting look of sadness passed over Siddhartha's face. "They left," he admitted.

The queen looked away from him as her mind raced back to the five smelly vagrants she'd passed on the path up here, and of the one old man who'd accosted her. "Tell me," she asked as she brought her hand up to eye level, "Was one of them about this tall, older, with a receding hairline and smelling like he hadn't bathed in ages?"

The holy man nodded slowly, "I see you passed them on your way up here."

"Yes," she answered thoughtfully, "I think they thought I was sent by your father the king to bring you back to your palace."

"Which brings us back to you," Siddhartha said. "Now then, I've told you my story, but what's yours? What is it that has brought you here? Why would the great Queen Neherenia of the New Moon Kingdom seek out a poor former prince such as I? If I'm a bum as you say, why would you wish to speak to me?"

Queen Neherenia looked back over to the man in the simple rags sitting on the grass beneath the pipal tree. She knew that sooner or later things would come back to this, to her and the horrible vision she'd seen that brought her here, but the thought of reliving the recent traumatic event…

Shaking herself out of her apprehensions, she resumed an air of authority about herself as she looked down at the former prince. She was the powerful Queen Neherenia, and she was here because the mirror had correctly predicted that this strange clown at her feet would understand her plight and might be of service to her.

"You're right," she said finally. "I have come here to you for help, and having heard your story I believe that you will understand. Come," she said, holding out a hand to help Siddhartha up, "Let us go for a walk, and I'll try to explain my…"

Siddhartha shook his head, "No."

"What? But why?"

"When I came to this tree," he explained, "I walked around it seven times. I then sat here, vowing I wouldn't leave this spot until I attained enlightenment."

"Really," Neherenia asked, bending over to give the ascetic a glimpse of the top of her cleavage as she batted her eyes and gave her prettiest pouting smile, "Not even for **me**?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "No," he said forcefully, "I will sit here until I either attain eternal truth or die in the attempt. Flesh may decay, bones may fall apart, but I will never leave this place until I find the way to enlightenment."

Neherenia's demeanor changed; she was not used to being denied, especially by one who purposefully made oneself lower than the dirt beneath her feet. Her left eye began to twitch and her right hand balled up into a fist. Why was this clown making things more difficult than they had to be? She wasn't asking him to perform an impossible task, simply to walk with her as they talked, just as she and her court advisors did. Who was he to insult her by saying no?

She could _make_ him get up. She was great and powerful in more ways than one, and if she wished to she could **force** him to obey her royal will. But then, she wasn't here to try to engage in a battle of wills; she was here for help. And despite the clown's refusal to rise and walk with her, he did express his willingness to otherwise help her.

Closing her eyes, she unclenched her fist. She would have to swallow her pride and humble herself before this uncouth man if she was going to get anywhere. "Very well," she finally said grudgingly, "You may stay seated while in my presence."

Siddhartha didn't answer her, but the corners of his lips tilted upwards just the tiniest bit, infuriating Queen Neherenia still further.

"I… I was in my palace earlier today," she began, suddenly feeling a bit silly and self-conscious at having to stand before the man under the tree, "Standing before my great mirror. You see, I had a dream; a wonderful, beautiful dream. I wished to be young and attractive forever. So I went to my mirror and I told it that I wanted my beauty to be eternal. But… But instead," she visibly shuddered as she recounted the traumatic event, "Instead it showed me that I would one day grow old and ugly."

Siddhartha tilted his head at that. "Eternal youth and beauty?" he asked as he examined the beautiful queen standing before him, "They don't exist…"

"No!" the queen cried out, shocking both Siddhartha and herself by the outburst. "I… I'm sorry, but… But they must exist. Why would fate give me such a beautiful dream, only to be denied?"

"Great queen," the holy man said in a soothing voice, "I meant no offence or disrespect, but to dream of such a thing is folly. Do you think I would be sitting here under this tree if I could be young and handsome forever and ever? No, all things, even your immense beauty, are transient and fleeting…"

Queen Neherenia shook her head, "No, please, I… I came here, came to you, for help. I want… **Need** to be beautiful always, I…"

"Need?" Siddhartha asked, "Why? Why should a great queen such as yourself _need_ to be beautiful? Surely your subjects will not abandon you over some gray hairs and crow's feet…"

Neherenia looked angrily at the clown beneath the tree. "You don't understand," she explained, "I need to be beautiful forever, not for my subjects but for my… My mirror."

He looked at her curiously, "Your mirror?" he asked, "You're right; I _don't _understand."

The queen brought her hand up to her forehead as she looked sadly down at the ground, "Yes, my mirror. I… I have no friends," she admitted in a low tone of voice, "Oh, I have plenty of admirers, and I receive the highest respect from my followers, but I have never had anyone to be there to share my loneliness, my bad times, my doubts and depressions and misgivings with. But… But when I was still a little girl, I was given a great mirror."

"The mirror saved me from solitude. It promised me everlasting beauty every time I looked into it and saw my radiant reflection gazing back. Without friends, without those I love, I have become my own friend. I am the one who I love," she said, bearing her soul to the strange holy man beneath the tree. "The one who talks and shares happiness with me is myself. So don't you see," she said, her tone pleading as she took her hand away and looked down at Siddhartha with tears slowly running down her cheeks, "I have to be beautiful forever to prevent myself from going back to the solitude."

There was a moment of silence after the outburst. Neherenia sniffled a bit as she used her hands to wipe back the tears from her eyes and face. As she finished, she looked back over to Siddhartha, and frowned. "Stop it," she ordered, "Stop looking at me with those eyes. I don't want your pity."

Siddhartha shook his head slowly as he gazed upon her compassionately, "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "But I cannot help you. I'm looking for answers just as you are great queen. I'm sorry, but the most I can offer you is the truth; that the search for eternal beauty is futile."

Queen Neherenia looked down at her hands, "No," she said again, this time sadly and without force, "But… Then why would my mirror have led me here to you? Why…"

The holy man's heart went out to the woman before him. She was spoiled and selfish, true, but she was also in a great deal of pain. "Neherenia, you asked me earlier why I'd give up all to leave my palace, and to endure painful fasts and ascetical practices. When I left my palace the first time and came upon that old man, I was shocked, even though I myself would one day become old. And when I came upon the cripple, I was horrified, even though one day I too will become sick. And when I came upon the decaying corpse I was disgusted, even though I too would one day die. Great Queen Neherenia, this frail holy man you now see before you sitting beneath this tree will one day get old, sick, and die. And, one day, so will _you_."

"No," Neherenia said, shaking her head as she covered her ears, "Please, no… I…"

"I do not yet know where the truth lies, but I do know this much at least; you suffer because you refuse to accept and believe in your own mortality…"

"No."

"Do not fight it, Neherenia. You suffer because you have tried to shelter yourself away from the truth in your palace with your mirror. Forget the mirror, forget the palace, forget your dreams and accept…"

"**NO!**" the great queen shouted out, sinking to her knees as new tears fell in rivulets down her face to replace the ones she'd wiped away only a few seconds ago. She sobbed, her chest heaving from the cries she let out. This clown wasn't helping her at all; he wasn't offering her consolation, he was taking it away. Her body shook as, a few feet away, Siddhartha silently looked on sadly.

At last opening her eyes, she saw that the forest had become dark. The sun had set, and with it night had come. She was tired, tired from the morning's ball, from the crushing blow dealt her by her mirror, from her trip here and from her conversation with the strange clown. She stood up, straightening out her beautiful black gown as she did so.

"I'm leaving," she said, "I've had enough of you, clown."

Siddhartha was taken aback. "Clown?" he asked.

"Yes, clown," she said dismissively, "I don't know why my mirror led me here, but I'm not going to stay here to be tormented, I…" as she looked around in the dark, she realized she could no longer see where the path was, "Damn…"

Siddhartha looked sympathetically at her in the dwindling light, "It would appear you're stuck here, at least for tonight."

Neherenia turned and glared at him. "Clown," she said in a low tone, "Do I have your promise that, should I stay the night here, you'll not try to take advantage of me in my sleep?"

The holy man put his hand over his heart and bent his head down, "I have already told you, I have taken upon myself a sacred vow not to leave this spot until I achieve enlightenment. But, if it will set your mind at ease, I will also give you my word not to attempt to take advantage of you in the middle of the night as you sleep. I do ask one thing of you though," he added with a gentle smile, "Will you promise not to call me a clown anymore?"

The queen frowned. "Very well," she snorted. She turned away from the former prince and waved her hand over the earth beneath her feet. The grass magically began to grow thicker, weaving itself into a type of mat as she looked on. She lay down, shifting her weight around uncomfortably as she tried to get comfortable. She gave one last look in Siddhartha's direction; the dark shadows of the forest already masking his features and much of his form. When he expressed no surprise at her magical powers, she reasoned that the darkness must have covered up her actions. She lay her head back down and closed her eyes.

"Dream, dream, don't doubt it," she whispered softly, already feeling herself slipping off into slumber. "A dream of dreams that dreaming children have…"

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-To be continued-

End Notes: In Buddhist mythology, as Siddhartha sat beneath the pipal tree Mara, the Lord of Delusion (who represents the obscurations of our mind) tried to distract him from his contemplations in order to prevent him from attaining truth, much in the way the Christian devil tried to temp Jesus in the desert. In a way, I've substituted Queen Neherenia for Mara. My apologies to any Buddhists reading this who might be offended by the substitution.


	3. Chapter 3

-The Dark Moon and the Lotus-

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the Sailor Moon series.

Author's Note: I've based Queen Neherenia's name on a sub of Sailor Stars; I'm well aware though that others have translated her name as "Nehellenia." I hope the different spelling in this story isn't too big a deal.

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The palace was in an uproar as dukes, duchesses, ladies in waiting and servants ran about madly, all with expressions of consternation and fear on their faces. As frantic shouts rang out throughout the royal halls, a plump cook wearing a large white chef's hat emerged from the kitchen holding a bowl of whisked eggs and a wooden spoon. Looking around in confusion, he stopped a footman running frantically down the hallway leading from the kitchen to the royal dining room, a candle clutched in his hand and his powdered wig sitting off-center on his head.

"What's going on out here?" the chef asked as he waved his spoon about irritably, "How are I and my cooking staff expected to prepare breakfast for the queen with all this racket?"

"She's gone!" the footman stammered out as a maid and a lord of low standing ran by the two in the hallway, "Our beautiful queen, Lady Neherenia has **disappeared**!"

"What?" the cook asked as the footman turned and began to run off. "Hey, wait!" he yelled as he ran after the man as fast as his girth would allow, "What do you mean she's disappeared?"

"She was last seen at yesterday's ball," the footman called back as they emerged from the hallway into the dining hall, the large and opulent room teaming with servants and members of the royalty running to and fore calling out Neherenia's name. "She was last seen going into her royal chamber. No one knows what happened to her after that."

"Well… Well wait," the chubby chef said, out of breath as he finally caught up to the footman, "What of the subjects? Are they looking for her?"

"What? Certainly not!" the footman said indignantly, "The subjects have not yet been told; do you think the palace wants to cause a panic?" Instead of waiting for a reply, the footman turned and ran frantically off down another corridor. The disconcerted chef was left in the crowded dining hall, breathing heavily and wondering what would now become of breakfast.

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She opened her eyes grudgingly, cold and sore from sleeping out in the forest all night long. Looking to her right, she saw the clown still seated beneath his tree, his legs crossed and his hands resting comfortably in his lap. As the sun slowly rose, she took the opportunity to study his features more closely. His skin was of a darker tone than hers, almost of a chestnut color, like that of the villagers at the market and the five ascetics she'd encountered yesterday. He had short hair, dark and curly, and the beard stubble on his thin face was sprinkled here and there with gray hairs. The coarse and tattered tan robes he wore were worn out from six years of travel and continual use; dirty, smelly and full of holes, she saw that here and there attempts had been made to patch some of the rips and tear, with limited success. The robes were opened down to his naval, allowing her an unobstructed view of his thin chest, and of his ribs which were clearly visible on his slender frame.

His eyes were closed at the moment, but from his steady breathing and body posture it was obvious he wasn't asleep. Rather, he seemed to be in some sort of meditation, his back straight as he held his thumb and middle finger together. As she studied him, she thought she saw some sort of movement on his lap. She looked, and saw dozens upon dozens of ants crawling across his legs, going about their business as if the clown were merely a stone or tree stump in their way. A few of the tiny black creatures were even carrying small leaves in their mandibles as they scurried across his lap.

She looked from the tiny black vermin to the calm face of the clown and back; how could he not be aware of their presence? How could he stand their disgusting insectoid legs moving all over him as they…

She stopped her reflections abruptly as she felt something. Looking down at herself, she saw that there were ants crawling on her as well, moving across the folds of her long black gown.

With a start she jumped up, screaming as she swatted them away. She quickly tried to get any that might be hiding in her luxuriously long dark hair out, frantically running her fingers through her hair that hung like a cape down her back. Breathing heavily from fear, she turned back to the clown who was now calmly watching her, his gentle dark eyes giving away his amusement. She glared angrily back at him before turning her attention angrily back to the ants, bringing her foot down to stomp on the nearest tiny black vermin.

The look of amusement vanished from Siddhartha's face. "Why did you do that?" he asked as she continued to step on the insects as they attempted to scurry away, "They weren't harming you."

"Ugh… Filthy, disgusting bugs," she growled, still feeling shaken and violated at having the ants crawling over her.

"It's their forest, oh great queen," Siddhartha responded. "We're the trespassers, not them. Was it truly necessary for you to stomp on them?"

Queen Neherenia turned and looked incredulously at the man beneath the tree; was he serious? She was about to respond contemptuously, when she felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. Bringing her right hand up to her temple, she began to shudder, not from the early morning chill, but from _withdrawal_. She hadn't gazed upon herself in the mirror since yesterday, and she wasn't used to being so far away from her consolation and companion for so long.

"Great queen?" Siddhartha asked as he saw the look of distress on Neherenia's beautiful face, "Great queen, is everything okay?"

She didn't answer. She bit her bottom lip anxiously as she brought her other hand up to her forehead. An overwhelmingly frightening feeling of loneliness and loss took hold of her; she **needed** her mirror, needed to see herself. As she began to panic, out of the corner of her eye she saw something glimmer in the early morning sunlight near the clearing she and Siddhartha were, and headed for it.

It was a small, clear brook, its waters softly flowing through the forest. She dropped to her knees, a sigh of relief escaping her as she gazed at her reflection within the tepid waters. True, it wasn't as beautiful as her great mirror, and her reflection was distorted a bit, but it was still there. She was still there; her friend, herself.

"He hurt you, didn't he?" Neherenia said in a soothing tone to her reflection, "He made you cry, telling you to abandon your dreams." A small tear traveled down her right cheek, "Don't cry," she whispered in a tremulous voice, "Don't let the clown hurt you…"

She stayed there for some time, offering her beautiful reflection words of consolation and solace from the pain of loneliness and the disappointment of finding that the man beneath the tree wasn't offering her the help she desired. As she continued to coo soft words of encouragement and love to herself, she saw a pale white dot reflected in the water, and looked up. It was still early, and the waxing moon was still faintly visible in the sky. She frowned, wondering if the Queen of the White Moon Kingdom ever felt desperation or loneliness.

At last, she stood up, dusting the dirt and leaves off her long black gown as she did so. Walking back to the clearing, she saw Siddhartha once again deep in meditation. He opened his eyes however when he heard the rustling of Queen Neherenia's gown.

"Great queen, are you alright?" he asked gently, adding "The sun is up now, should you choose to leave and go back to your kingdom."

The Queen of the New Moon scowled angrily down at the holy man, "I was led here by my mirror," she said, "I was shown that you were the one person who could understand how I felt. I therefore came here and sought you out for help. Instead, you told me to give up my beautiful dreams."

"Great queen, I'm sorry, but your 'beautiful dreams' of eternal youth are unanswerable. You seek that which you cannot have, and you suffer because of it."

"No! I need to be young forever to keep away the loneliness; why can't you understand that? To ask me to lose my beauty is to ask me to lose _everything_. How can you sit there and smugly suggest such an evil thing?"

A moment of silence passed between the two. "Great queen," Siddhartha finally asked, "What do you mean by 'an evil thing?'"

Queen Neherenia was caught off guard by the question, "What do you mean, what do **I** mean?" she asked back. "I mean **evil**. You know; the opposite of good."

Siddhartha bent forward, his dark eyes seemingly piercing into her soul, "And what is _good_?" The holy man watched the look of confusion sweep over Neherenia's face. She suffered because she was ignorant, because she never looked deeper than surface level. He was aware of his own shortcomings; he'd come here for answers himself, and had yet to receive them. Who was he therefore to think he could show her where truth was and where falsehood lay? Yet, he knew she needed help, and somehow he knew that if he was going to be able to help her, he had to get her to look deeper, to think beyond the superficial veil she was used to.

The queen was taken aback; she was in the midst of angrily lashing out at him before leaving him and his tree to return to her palace, and now she somehow found herself being sucked into a discussion on good and evil. Something inside told her to ignore the dirty ascetic beneath the tree, turn around, and storm off back to the peace and tranquility of her palace. Still, her mirror _had _led her here. And more importantly, she wasn't about to let the smug clown beneath the tree have the satisfaction of beating her in a battle of wits.

She narrowed her eyes as she looked at the clown; no doubt he thought he'd stumped her with such a question. She was smarter than he thought though, and she was going to make sure he knew as much before she left.

"When I was a child," she began, "My tutors taught me reading, writing, arithmetic, science and philosophy. And at an early age I was taught that a thing is good if it exists in the order for which it was intended," she said, reciting from memory what one of her childhood instructor had taught her, "An apple is meant to be round, tart and sweet tasting, and therefore if it's moldy, worm infested or nasty tasting, it's bad."

"I see…" Siddhartha said thoughtfully, "But then, how would such a definition apply to you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Queen Neherenia asked, surprised that the clown couldn't see what was so clear to her. "The intended purpose of a beautiful queen, such as myself, _is to be beautiful_. To become ugly, in any way, would therefore be a great evil. Human nature itself attests to this; who would fall in love with a decrepit old hag when they could have a young milkmaid instead? And in my case, I am all I have. If I should become old and ugly, if I should be unable to bear the sight of myself, what then? Surely that would be a grave evil to befall one such as me."

Siddhartha sighed as he shook his head, "I think there's a flaw in your definitions of good and evil."

Neherenia raised an eyebrow, "Such as?"

"Such as who decided on what the proper order of any given object or action is? No, rather than trying to use functionality as a criteria for whether something is good or not, perhapse… Perhapse good and evil could both be seen as necessary components of life. A sapling can only grow if one of the taller trees of the forest dies so it can get the sunlight. Youth and beauty, old age and ugliness, both are inherent in human existence, and thus must both be necessary."

The Queen of the New Moon Kingdom smirked at such an idea. "Holy man," she said, "I can most readily assure you that there is no necessity whatsoever for me to become old and ugly."

Siddhartha shook his head once again, "Great queen, good and evil are simply a part of life, and are inseparable. A tiger needs to live, and to live is a good thing, but in order for it to live it has to kill other animals. This is not to say that evil is good; rather that both are within and without us, and unless we recognize the darkness we can not overcome it to enter the light. Look at yourself," he said, raising a finger to point at the queen, "You refuse to acknowledge your own mortality, the image shown you within your mirror, and because you refuse to face it you bring suffering upon yourself."

Neherenia frowned; the clown was obviously attempting to trick her into accepting his definitions of good and evil in order to win the argument. Once again, the thought of simply calling him a fool and storming off entered her mind, and once again her pride would have nothing of it; she would **not** lose a battle of wits to a crazy ex-prince sitting beneath a tree like some sort of bizarre living lawn statue. She crossed her arms and thoughtfully began walking back and forth as she attempted to form a response.

"No," she finally said as she stopped pacing and looked at him, "Now it is _you _who have slipped into false logic. One minute you say I must recognize the darkness if I am to overcome it, and the next you say I must acknowledge and accept my own mortality. We both seem to agree that to grow old is bad, but how am I to both accept my own mortality and overcome it in order to, as you would say, 'enter the light?'"

"Great queen, you do not understand…"

"No, I understand perfectly," she said, her voice beginning to rise a bit, "And what's more, I can see now that your definitions of good and evil are in and of themselves bad. For rather than clarifying anything you've only confused me more, and rather than relieving me of my suffering you would instead have me simply accept it, grow old, and die…"

"I see," Siddhartha sighed, "So we are back to functionality once again being the determining factor of whether or not something is good or evil. More specifically, whether it serves a useful function to _you_."

Neherenia tilted her head a bit, "What are you getting at?"

"The ants."

"What? What about the ants?"

"Was it a good thing to crush the ants earlier when they were trying to escape from you, or was it an evil thing?"

Neherenia brought her hand up to the side of her head; the clown was giving her another headache. "Why ask me?" she finally asked sarcastically, "Ask the ants."

"Great queen, do not avoid the issue," Siddhartha said, his voice suddenly taking on a forceful air, "Was killing those ants good or evil?"

The queen frowned, "You're serious, aren't you?" she asked irritably. "They were** ants**! What do I care about whether or not killing a few of the vermin is good or bad? Besides," she added dismissively, "They're ugly and nasty to look at, which makes their very existence a bad thing."

"I see…" the holy man beneath the tree said as he stared intensely at her, "Tell me then; as a queen, how do you feel about ugliness or deformity in your subjects, or other people?"

Neherenia looked angrily at the clown, "I know where you're trying to go with this," she growled out, "As a queen, I treat all my subjects the same, regardless of whether or not they are pleasing to the eye."

"Do you?"

"Yes, and I find it highly insulting that you would try to imply that just because I would crush a bug or two that I would therefore be an unworthy queen to my people!" she said angrily. "Besides, who do you think you are to even imply such a thing? You, a former prince who turned your back on your father the king and your royal duties, presume to judge me? A monarch, whether a queen or a prince, is meant to be a leader, just as one's subjects are meant to follow."

"So," the holy man asked, "If that's true, would you say I acted wrongly to leave my palace in search of the truth?"

"Yes!" Neherenia shouted triumphantly; at last she'd managed to turn things around and had the smug clown in the filthy rags on the defensive, "The purpose of a monarch is to manage his kingdom and rule over his subjects. Therefore, you were wrong to leave your palace and your people to search for the truth."

"If your reasoning is correct," Siddhartha responded calmly, "Then wouldn't you likewise be wrong for leaving your palace to search for answers to your own dilemma?"

The queen's intellectual victory vanished in an instant. Her face turned red from anger and embarrassment, and as the holy man looked on she opened her mouth to say something, but was unable to form a response. Her headache grew stronger, and once again her left eye began to twitch in anger.

She turned away from him, and strode angrily away; not to the path leading back to the village she'd emerged from however, but back to the small brook she'd visited earlier. She shook with rage as she looked at herself within the shallow waters, her fists once more balled up in anger and her jaw clenched as she seethed inside. Trying to argue with that damn ascetic beneath the pipal tree was like trying to catch a fish barehanded; every time she thought she had him, he wiggled out somehow and turned the argument back upon her. She was frustrated and embarrassed by her inability to best him, and by the fact that a clown and madman was making mincemeat of her intellectually.

Most humiliating was that he kept trying to prove her wrong for dreaming of eternal beauty, and was winning the argument.

"My dream," she hissed as a tear of frustration ran down her left cheek, "My beautiful dream…" He didn't care, she told herself, not really. He was probably sitting smugly under the tree even now, laughing to himself over how he made her sound like a fool. He didn't care about her, about her dreams or her feelings or how much it hurt to have him try to steal her dreams away as he sat under his damn tree seeking enlightenment. He…

It was then that a thought occurred to Queen Neherenia. The evil clown had done everything he could to hurt her by taking her dreams of eternal youth away, but what of **his **dream? The dream that inspired the mad fool to abandon his kingdom and responsibilities to come out here and sit beneath a tree out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the filthy rags on his back; the dream of achieving enlightenment. What if she showed the clown what it felt like to have one's dreams torn away, ridiculed and spat upon?

What if she made sure he never achieved enlightenment?

A malicious smile graced her lips, and her eyes glowed a malevolent shade of yellow as she turned away once more from her reflection and strode back over to the clown, vowing to herself that she would hurt him the same way he'd hurt her; by stealing his dream.

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-To Be Continued-


	4. Chapter 4

-The Dark Moon and the Lotus-

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the Sailor Moon series.

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He silently watched her leave as her anger and frustration got the better of her. He was sorry to see her go; she was hurting, caught in a self-imposed prison of loneliness and self-worship. He'd tried to help her, and in the end he'd failed. In his pride he'd attempted to open her eyes before his _own_ were open, and he'd learned a painful lesson in the process.

No doubt she was long-gone now, back on the road headed to her palace and her mirror. Turning away from the area of the forest from which he'd seen her leave, he allowed his gaze to fall downward. He silently watched as a few small ants continued contentedly to crawl across his lap as if he was just part of the landscape, and smiled. He'd been sitting in the lotus position for so long now that his legs and rear end had gone numb, and his lower back was aching. A cool, gentle breeze blew through the forest, and as the sun shone overhead he closed his eyes, deliberately attempting to put the queen out of his head as he straightened his head and back.

He began to focus on his breathing, trying to clear his mind of all thoughts. Images rose and fell in his mind like waves; Queen Neherenia, his five former traveling companions, long days of fasting, encounters with the Brahmin priesthood, his childhood in the palace, and countless others scurried through his mind. He ignored them all, refusing to focus on any of them. Instead, he forced himself to focus solely on his nose and mouth, the feeling of the morning air entering through his nostrils and exiting to run across his upper lip.

He intentionally tried to not control his breathing, but rather to passively observe the breath entering and leaving his body. Slowly, Siddhartha began to calm his mind, to bring his consciousness to a place of stillness and calming peace. Over the last six years, through fasting, self-mortifications and ascetical practices he had stretched the boundaries of his mind beyond that which most people would ever experience. It was not enough though; if he was to attain the state of absolute wisdom and everlasting bliss known as enlightenment, he would have to go further.

As his mind slowly calmed, he became dimly aware of a tickling sensation near his right nostril. Lifting his eyelid a crack, he saw the thread of a spider web attached to his nose, and in fact that there now appeared to be several cobwebs in his immediate vicinity which weren't present only a short time ago. Stranger still, he couldn't see any spiders as he looked at the webs.

He closed his eyes again, dispelling the thoughts of the cobwebs from his mind as he once again began to focus on his breathing. Soon, he began to lose himself, his consciousness dissolving like a mirage as he perceived his very being to go up like a puff of smoke floating up a chimney. He saw flickering lights, like fireflies flying about in the evening sky on a spring day, and his body heat began to slowly lower from the tips of his toes to the top of his head.

He went still deeper into himself; the flickering lights became a flame, then a vivid whiteness. All was whiteness; it surrounded Siddhartha, permeated him, and _was_ him all at the same time. He was the white light and yet he was outside the white light. Soon, the light turned from white to a fiery red, then to total black. Dimly, he became aware of an external sensation, one happening to his physical body. He slowly opened his eyes.

The warm, tranquil breezes from earlier had been replaced by a chill wind, and the forest was now dark around him. Looking up though, he was puzzled to see the sun high up in the midday sky beyond the cobwebs…

The cobwebs.

Siddhartha now noted that the cobwebs wove throughout the entire forest, over the tops of all the trees, and were so thick that they were actually blocking out the sunlight. He also quickly became aware of another fact, mainly that he himself was covered in webbing. He observed all without fear though, at least for the moment. Rather, he noted all with a sort of passive curiosity.

A distant sound of thunder caused him to turn his attention over to his left. He looked on as dark storm clouds seemed to race across the sky, the occasional flash of lightening breaking forth as soon enough they reached the sun overhead. The clouds, with the cobwebs, plunged Siddhartha into near total darkness.

He observed all through half-closed eyelids, his dark eyes adjusting themselves to the darkness as a sudden bolt of lightening lit up the sky and temporarily blinded him. As a loud clap of thunder rolled over and he was once again able to see, he saw her.

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She looked down at the clown seated beneath the pipal; her yellow eyes narrowing as she boldly met his gaze. Anger and hatred began to well up within her for the evil fool who'd hurt her so. He thought himself so clever, this smug little man in his filthy robes. As the sky was lit up once more by a lightening flash and thunder rang through the forest, the clouds poured forth a torrent of rain, drenching both her and the man beneath the tree.

The wind blew her now wet strands of hair madly behind her. He had no idea who he was dealing with, this silly fool; no idea of the kind of power the Queen of the New Moon possessed. The corners of her mouth turned downward into a frown as she came closer to the filthy vagrant.

She expected to see fear in his eyes, or regret for having transgressed against someone as powerful as herself.

Instead, he smiled.

"Great Queen," he said happily, "I'm glad to see you've come back."

Neherenia's jaw dropped as the harsh winds suddenly died off. The rains continued though as the ascetic, now drenched and looking up at her through a cloak of soaking wet cobwebs, calmly continued.

"I was afraid after our last talk that you'd left in anger, that I'd failed you. But here you are again. I'm happy indeed that…"

"Shut up!" Neherenia shouted, catching the clown by surprise. She grit her teeth, seething as she stormed over to him, "You mocked my dreams," she spat out angrily as she pointed at herself, "You try to take away that which I hold most precious, but what of you? What of your dreams?"

Siddhartha tilted his head a bit, "My dreams?"

"Yes, yes, you know; the whole eternal truth thing. What you call enlightenment," she said impatiently as she brushed some wet bangs from her face, "You're very quick to trample on my dreams clown," she sneered, smiling as she once again insulted him by calling him a clown to his face, "But what of yours? Amuse me clown, tell me your dreams."

He didn't answer at first. Instead, he looked intently into Neherenia's cold golden eyes. The queen saw it again; that look, the one she hated so. It looked of sorrow, sympathy and pity, and it seemed to pierce through to her very soul. Angrily she averted her eyes, cursing herself as she did so.

"Great queen," Siddhartha finally said in a compassionate tone, "You don't seem to understand; my dream is the same as yours."

Neherenia incredulously looked back over to the ascetic, "I thought you said that the search for eternal youth and beauty was futile."

The ascetic shook his head. "No, that is not what you're truly after. You seek the same thing I do; an end to suffering. It's simply that in your case, you mistakenly think that all your problems will be solved if you can be beautiful and young forever."

Neherenia smiled bitterly at that, "And you think you can end your sufferings by sitting under this tree?" she asked. As another lightening bolt lit up the sky, she came closer. Her hair and gown were now sticking to her wet body, and when she was but a few feet away she knelt down before him.

"Clown," she began, stopping momentarily as the sound of thunder once more reverberated throughout the forest, "You mocked me. My dreams are precious to me, and you spat upon them. Who do you think you are? At least my dreams are rational, they make sense. You're a madman who dreams of ending your suffering by sitting beneath a tree and waiting for some great message from above or whatever it is that's supposed to happen."

Siddhartha said nothing in reply. The rain continued to fall heavily, pitter-pattering against the ground and causing little rivulets of mud to run through the opening in the forest he and Queen Neherenia were in. As the winds once more picked up, the Queen of the New Moon stood up once more, glaring down at him as her mascara began to run down her wet face.

"You tried to destroy me by destroying my dreams," she said, "And now, before I return to my kingdom, I will make you pay. It is not my dreams, but **yours** which will be stolen."

Siddhartha raised an eyebrow at that. "I see… You intend to punish me?"

"Yes?"

"By stealing my dreams?"

"Yes."

"Now who's the madman?" he asked, "Do you honestly think the quest to end suffering is mine alone, or that the dream to understand the true nature of the way life works is so easily done away with?"

Neherenia smiled, "We shall see, won't we?"

Siddhartha narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward, meeting her stare. "Let go," he said, his voice grave.

Neherenia gave a look, "Let go? Let go of what?"

"You are hurt, and because you are hurt you are angry. Let go of your anger."

The queen began to laugh mockingly. "Yes," she sneered, "I can well imagine you would want me to forget your abuse. No, I don't think so. I don't want to 'let go' clown. I want to hurt you, to make you pay. I…"

"In the end, the only one you'll succeed in hurting is yourself. You're like a child who picks up a hot coal to throw at someone; you will only succeed in burning yourself. Besides, after our previous discussion, I have to wonder; is this a good thing or a bad…"

"No!" Neherenia interrupted, "You'll not trick me into another discussion of metaphysics. If it be evil, then so be it! I'll not only admit to it, but I'll embrace the fact that I'm performing an evil act if it means hurting you."

Siddhartha let out a sigh, "Very well. Tell me though, exactly how do you plan to steal my dreams?"

Neherenia didn't answer. Instead she merely smiled and turned her back on the ascetic. A lightening bolt nearby was answered by loud thunder as the rivulets soon became a small stream separating the holy man from the queen.

"You're a clown," Neherenia said, her back still to Siddhartha, "Worse than a clown; a fool, a madman. Worse still, a fraud. You've spent all these years supposedly trying to overcome desire by denying yourself, starving yourself down to skin and bones and smelling like a wild animal whose rolled in his own piss and shit, for what?" she then turned towards him again, "Fool! Did it never once occur to you that the desire to overcome desire was a desire in and of itself? Or was that also a desire for you to try to drive off? Look at you! Even if you do somehow attain your precious enlightenment, what good will it do? Look around you. You're alone out here. Who's going to witness it?"

Siddhartha looked thoughtfully at the queen, "I see…" he muttered to himself, "Attempting to anger me. An interesting first attack." Straightening himself up in his seated position, he once more met her gaze, "Even if there's no one else," Siddhartha answered, "The forest itself, and the earth beneath me, shall bear witness to my enlightenment."

Neherenia frowned. She reached up with both her hands, removing two crystals earrings from her earlobes. As the wind and rain whipped around her and the clown, she threw the earrings to the ground. They instantly transformed into crystalline figures, each looking like a translucent nude woman. As the ascetic beneath the tree looked on, the figures' nails slowly grew longer, looking like mini daggers extending from their fingers.

The crystal figures rushed toward the holy man, their deadly nails extended towards him. Neherenia searched the clown's face for any signs of fear, terror, regret or remorse.

Instead, she saw nothing. No shock, no dread, nothing.

The figures stopped, their sharp nails less than an inch from Siddhartha's face.

"What is the matter with you?" the queen demanded. The crystalline forms fell back as she stormed forward, "Don't you realize they were about to attack you?"

"Yes."

"But… But they were about to kill you. You were about to die."

"Yes."

"Without attaining enlightenment."

"I know."

Neherenia came closer, searching the holy man's face. "Just what kind of man are you?" she asked.

Siddhartha chuckled a bit at the question, "Now you sound like my father."

The wind once more died away, and even the rain seemed to calm down to a mere sprinkling as Neherenia continued to stare perplexedly at the clown beneath the tree. She'd tried to upset the clown into giving up his ideals, and in her anger was about to kill him, expecting that at the last moment he would falter, breaking his oath as he got up from his seat to run away. Neither anger nor fear seemed to have any effect on this man though, and…

This… _man_?

Neherenia's mind began to reel. This was a man seated before her. A strange fool of a man, a lunatic and clown, but still a man. No matter how he tried to escape his flesh through fasts and renunciations, he was still just like other men. She smiled wickedly as she began to chuckle to herself; she now knew how to defeat this clown, and destroy his dreams of attaining enlightenment.

As Siddhartha silently watched, Queen Neherenia of the New Moon slowly began to remove her dress.

-To Be Continued-


	5. Chapter 5

-The Dark Moon and the Lotus-

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the Sailor Moon series.

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The forest was dark and wet. The thunder and lightening had finally ended as mysteriously as it had begun, but the gloomy darkness remained. The heavy rain, coupled with the heat of the day, gave the area a humid heaviness, the haze hung in the air thick as slowly the animals of the forest began to come out of hiding.

Near a large ashoka tree, partially hidden from view by heavy vines and shrubs, laid a natural cave worn out of the earth over thousands of years by a small stream. As a group of black flies swarmed about in a group, a hand tentatively reached out from the cave entrance. Moving some of the vines aside, the owner of said hand stuck his head out to look around him. After a few seconds, he turned back to look behind him.

"We can leave now," he said, adding, "The storm is down to a drizzle now."

With that, five wet and dirty men clothed in rags exited the cave. They quickly picked up the path they were following and continued on their way. After several minutes spent walking in silence, the youngest of the group, Baspa, ventured to speak.

"So, what do we do now?"

"We carry on," Mahanama answered, "We continue to perfect and purify our minds and bodies through fasting and self-mortification, just as we have been for the last six years."

"Well, not exactly as we have been," Bharika muttered despondently, "We no longer have the young prince with us to…"

"Don't mention that man ever again," Asvajit said bitterly, "He betrayed us and his ideals. He left the path, and if he now wishes to indulge his senses with food and comforts than I say good riddance!"

With that, the conversation ended. Kayundinya, the eldest of the group and the Brahman scholar who thirty-five years previous had predicted that the young prince would indeed one day become a great holy man and enlightened one, silently took in his companions conversation. What no one commented on, and what he alone seemed to notice, was that the freak weather they'd just experienced was preceded by an unnatural darkening of the sky. Somehow, Kayundinya felt there was a connection between this strange phenomenon and their former companion and leader, the Prince Siddhartha. He didn't know how or why, but somehow he knew.

As a crow flew overhead, the humidity and the darkened sky added to the feelings of apprehension and gloom in Kayundinya's heart. Where was the young prince now? Was he still sitting under that tree of his, or had he truly abandoned the path and headed home? Was he safe, in danger? Shaking his head to try to clear his thoughts, he silently followed his four comrades, commending his old friend's fate to the gods.

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She smiled dangerously, her eyes never leaving the clown's as her wet dress slipped off her rain-slicked body to fall in a heap at her feet. Her under things soon followed, then her shoes, and finally her stockings. There she stood; Queen Neherenia of the New Moon Kingdom, naked from head to toe.

"Great queen," Siddhartha asked, "What do you think you're doing?"

Her eyes narrowed as the two crystalline maidens made their way over to her. He thought he'd won, he'd thought he bested her. He was wrong. She wasn't simply stripping her clothing from her body; her creamy white flesh would be her armor in this final battle, her beauty her instrument of destruction.

"Great queen, is this what you now lower yourself to?" the clown asked, "Do you now throw yourself upon me, hoping to make me abandon my quest in pursuit of the pleasures of the flesh?"

Neherenia shook her head; the fool had no idea what was coming.

"No, clown," she answered seductively as her wet hair clung to her back and her ample assets were displayed before the holy man beneath the tree, "I am no longer a queen."

"Oh?" Siddhartha asked.

"No," she answered, readying the trap for the fool, "And these," she added, gesturing with her hands to the two crystal women now standing on either side of her, "Are no longer my agents of death. They are my sisters, passion and lust."

Siddhartha's eyebrow rose upon hearing that, "I see," he responded thoughtfully, "And who are you?"

Neherenia's smile widened ever so slightly, "I am aversion."

The trap was set, and the clown had fallen for it! For him to attain enlightenment, the fool believed he had to overcome desire, to leave behind his ego. If he gave in to the temptations of the flesh, she won. If he turned his head or shielded his eyes she _still _won, for aversion would still be a form of desire, in this case the desire to escape temptation. More though, it would mean an admission on his part that he hadn't conquered his flesh or his ego, since if he had he wouldn't need to avert his gaze.

Neherenia's eyes glowed yellow once again, this time in **triumph**. No matter what course the clown took, he would come out a hypocrite and a fraud. She'd won, she was sure of it; she'd succeeded in stealing his dream, just as he'd attempted to steal hers.

There the clown sat, she mused silently; cobwebs soaked with the recent rains and covered in dirt and leaves blown upon him by the storm winds clung to the ascetic's body as their gazes met. Sooner or later, he would make his slip. Sooner or later, he'd either give into his masculine desires or he'd close his eyes to her and her two crystalline servants.

After a few moments went by, Neherenia's smile slowly began to fade. Sooner or later was beginning to become much later, as he neither moved towards her and the two crystal figures, nor retreated away, but simply stared back at her like some sort of damned statue. She frowned; instead of quickly giving into one or the other choices opened to him, the clown seemed rather to be _deliberating_. This wasn't what she wanted; she'd planned on an impulsive move on his part, not this.

Narrowing her eyes, she motioned with her hand, and the two figures now representing lust and passion began to dance seductively around one another. Still, nothing; had she miscalculated somehow? Whatever else this fool before her was, he was still a man, and experience had taught the queen long ago that men are easily tricked into thinking with their little head instead of their big one.

Perhapse her tactic wasn't the problem; perhapse she'd chosen the wrong _bait_. Another wave of her hand, and the two girls slowly morphed and changed into two beautiful young men. Still, nothing; no reaction whatsoever. He just sat there, passive, immobile, staring at her flaccidly.

Angry and frustrated, she waved her hand violently, allowing an almost guttural growl to escape her as the figures of crystal seemed to explode, their shards falling to the forest floor.

"What in the hell's the matter with you!" she screeched, "What are you?"

"A blind man groping for the light," the clown answered.

She clenched her fists once more as she glared at the ascetic, her body beginning to shiver both from rage and cold as she stood wet and naked before the fool. "You…" she spat out, "Damn my mirror and damn you! 'Blind man searching for the light' indeed! I came here for answers, for help, for consolation, and what have I received in return?"

"Great queen, I…"

"Silence!" she yelled out as thunder once again was heard above them, "I came here, was led here, because I was searching for the fulfillment of my dreams of eternal beauty. I came here because I was given a sign, a light, which led me here, for what?" she demanded bitterly.

Siddhartha silently heard the queen's tirade to the bitter end, "Great queen," he finally said with a sigh, "I know not what light led you to me, or why. Rather than follow external lights, leading you into uncharted regions of darkness, danger and dead ends, perhapse you'd be better off looking inside for answers."

Neherenia looked taken aback, "What?"

"Be a light unto yourself," he said. "Rather than looking to me, or anyone else, for the solutions to your search, look within. Ask yourself why? Why the need for eternal youth, the need for your great mirror, the need for your palace? Why do you shelter yourself from that which is ugly and painful instead of simply accepting such as inevitable?"

Neherenia's face fell; was pain and ugliness inevitable? She'd done her best to hide ugliness and imperfection from her presence at the Imperial Court of the New Moon, whereas this fool had left his palace in _search_ of such things. She denied their entrance into her life, while he embraced them; was he really such a fool, and was she really so sensible? If it was true, if she was truly fated to become old and ugly…

"No," she hissed, shaking her head of such thoughts, "No!" He'd almost succeeded, almost sucked her in to his insane world of lunacy. Her heart raced as she realized how close she'd come to falling for his lies. She quickly turned away from the evil clown, bent down to retrieve her gown, and ran off.

"Great queen," Siddhartha called out, "Great queen, wait."

Clutching her gown in her right hand she brought both hands up to cover her ears. Coming to the small brook in the forest once more, she barely even took time to register her reflection before entering the water's glassy smooth surface and disappearing without a trace.

A flash of light, darkness, another flash of light, and Queen Neherenia of the New Moon Kingdom emerged from the great mirror within the inner chamber of her palace bedroom. She was wet, shivering, and humiliated after exposing her naked beauty to a man who showed to response whatsoever. Tossing her royal gown angrily aside, she fell to her knees and wept, leaning her head against her mirror, almost as if seeking some form of consolation.

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She was gone, he was certain of it this time. She had left, and was not returning. Above him the clouds began to dissipate, and above and around him the cobwebs began to fall apart and dissolve. As the sun once more shone down upon him, the former prince closed his eyes and entered into himself.

He focused on his breathing as he slowly calmed his mind. The queen came to him searching for eternal youth and beauty as a means of escaping suffering. As if such a thing were possible; suffering was an inherent part of life. He'd tried his best to show her this, to show that in her ignorance the desire to be young forever…

It was then that something occurred to Siddhartha, something that he hadn't seen before. Why did the great Queen Neherenia bother to come to a lowly ascetic such as himself? It was to escape suffering born of ignorance and desire. Why was he here though, sitting under this tree? To find a means of overcoming suffering. Why did _he_ suffer though? What caused _his _unhappiness?

Was it not ignorance and desire? He didn't understand life's mysteries, and because he didn't understand he dreamed of finding answers through the attainment of enlightenment, and he suffered because he had yet to achieve it.

His pulse quickened and his breath picked up; he was onto something! The poor desired wealth and possessions, and because they could attain neither they suffered. The rich desired to keep their wealth, and they suffered because their desires made their life a constant struggle against the tax collectors and other rich merchants and royalty. It wasn't simply suffering that was a universal condition of man, but the causes of suffering, desire born of ignorance, were also universal!

All life is suffering, and all suffering is caused by ignorance and desire. But the way out…

In an instant, he saw it. In a moment of clarity, his eyes were opened and he understood all things. Wisdom, ethical conduct, mental discipline; these were the means through which one could escape the sufferings of the world. Right intentions, right actions, right efforts; all made sense now, all was clear, all was illuminated before the former prince.

A few minutes before, an ascetic dressed in filthy rags closed his eyes in meditation, but within that short span of time the ascetic had disappeared.

In his place, _the enlightened one_ opened his eyes.

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She angrily pulled the brush through her long black locks, her eyes roaming around her bedroom. Several of her personal items were out of place. No doubt her servants, upon finding her missing since yesterday, looked through her belongings hoping to find some sort of a clue as to her whereabouts.

Once her hair was once more neat and somewhat dry, she turned her attention to a small mirror on her nightstand. With delicate care she painted on her eyeliner, then her mascara, blush, and a ruby red lipstick to complete the look. She took time to admire the finished product, smiling to herself as she unconsciously smoothed out the clean new black dress she'd put on. Her smile vanished though when she saw her great mirror in the reflection, her childhood friend on the opposite side of the room.

"Friend." She laughed bitterly as she turned around to face it; her "friend" had betrayed her trust and friendship in the worst way possible. Instead of showing her the fulfillment of her wonderful dreams of eternal youth and beauty, it showed her ugliness, old age and decay. Instead of helping her, it sent her to a lunatic clown who made her cry and almost succeeded in stealing away her dreams of eternal happiness. Her brow furrowed and her teeth clenched as she stormed over to her "friend," her hair brush clutched menacingly in her hand. As she finally stood before the mirror she raised her brush above her head, intending to smash the mirror into a thousand broken shards of glass.

"Dream, dream, don't doubt it."

She stopped, her arm still poised as she heard once more the chant coming from the mirror.

"A dream of dreams that dreaming children have."

Once more, she saw the image of a circus in the reflective surface of the glass.

"Dream, dream, don't doubt it."

And suddenly, she understood.

"A dream of dreams that dreaming children have."

She dropped the brush as she backed away from the mirror. Trying to steal that foolish clown's dreams through tempting him away from following after them was one thing, but this? She said when she fought the clown beneath the tree that if what she was doing was evil, so be it. She'd even embrace the evilness of her actions. But still, now she hesitated. How could she possibly go forward with what she now knew the mirror was suggesting?

_Be a light unto yourself._

The clown's words now came back to her. "Be a light unto yourself." Of course! She was hesitating because she was afraid, but of what? That if she was to follow her vision that she'd be crossing some sort of a line? Who came up with the line anyways? Who set it, and who enforces it?

The clown was far more evil than she could ever be; he tried to drive her insane didn't he (and very nearly succeeded). But within all the manure that his rantings amounted to in her eyes, he did say one thing that made sense. Yes, she would be a light unto herself. She, and she alone, would be the final arbiter and judge of good and evil. And she now decided that the good of remaining eternally young and pretty far outweighed any sort of evil required to attain the good.

"Dream, dream, don't doubt it," she said, her lips twisting up into a smile, "A dream of dreams that dreaming children have."

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He began to weep, tears of joy running down his cheeks. He attempted to move, only to find he couldn't; he'd been sitting in the lotus position for so long that his legs were now completely numb. Laughing through his tears at the irony of the situation, he reached down and separated his legs. Rolling onto his side, he reached out with his arms and began to pull himself towards the main path leading out of the forest, a nearby garden snake watching him slowly drag the dead weight of his legs behind him as he made his way through grass and mud puddles.

Slowly, he felt the cramping, followed by the sensation of thousands of pinpricks as blood began to rush to his lower limbs. He grimaced at the pain as sensation continued to return to his legs. Finally, he was able to crawl on all fours, and then at last he tentatively stood on unsteady legs. Reaching up, he wiped the tears from his face as he at last reached the dirt path and headed out of the forest. He knew not where he'd go, nor did he worry about such things anymore. He was at peace, his search over at last.

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The butler in the freshly-powdered wig's jaw fell open as he suddenly saw his missing queen walking down the long corridor toward him. "M- M- My beautiful queen," he stammered out in disbelief as he clicked his heels and bowed before her, "Lady Neherenia, I…" he never got to finish the sentence as a beam of dark energy escaped from the queen's hand and exploded into the hapless butler. A mirror materialized out of his chest, and the butler himself disappeared, to be replaced by a ghastly looking juggler with leper-white skin and purple hair.

"Dream, dream, don't doubt it," Neherenia hissed.

"A dream of dreams that dreaming children have," the juggler answered. Neherenia smiled gleefully as she absorbed the dream mirror into herself. She would indeed be a light unto herself she mused as the juggler danced around before her, continuing to chant as he twirled three bright red balls above his head. The path she'd now chosen was beyond good and evil, beyond right and wrong. Her people would be sacrificed so that she'd never need to worry or fear of being lonely ever again.

Neherenia heard voices coming from the main ball room and, following them, found the huge room filled with servants and royalty.

"The queen!"

"Neherenia has returned to us!"

"Hail, beautiful queen!"

She looked around the room at the sea of happy and relieved faces. A nearby maid started to walk closer, but stopped as the juggler entered the ball room behind Neherenia. "My queen," she asked clearly puzzled, "What…"

Beams of energy escaped once more from the queen. The maid's dream mirror escaped her chest as she became a harlequin, then a duke was transformed into a strong man. Exhilaration at having the queen back gave way to fear, then to terror as soon everyone scattered. Neherenia's eyes swept the scene as she began to laugh maniacally, blasting everyone in site as she consumed their dreams into herself. Soon, her court was gone. In its place was a circus, _her_ circus.

The Dead Moon Circus.

Over the following days and weeks she and the circus left the palace grounds, making their way through the towns and villages of the New Moon Kingdom. Soon, her subjects were gone, every last one sacrificed for their queen's eternal beauty. As the now mindless zombies of the Dead Moon Circus worked around the clock to transform the once beautiful palace of the New Moon into a giant circus tent, Neherenia turned a contemptuously jealous eye towards the Kingdom of the Silver Millennium on the other side of the moon…

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On the outskirts of Varanasi they sat, the five companions, as they tried to figure out what do next. Three weeks had passed since they'd last seen the prince, their former leader of six years. They now wondered where to go from here.

Then, Bharika saw somebody off in the distance coming towards them. He shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand as he strained to make out who it was. "G… Gautama?"

"Gautama?" Baspa asked in disbelief, "Where?"

"There," he answered, pointing to the figure as he added, "I'm telling you it's the prince."

Asvajit frowned as he looked in the direction indicated. He bent down and picked up a stone with the intention of chucking it at the prince, when Kayundinya angrily knocked it from his hand. Giving all a stern look, the older ascetic turned and began to walk forward to greet the disgraced ascetic, expecting to see guilt and repentance in the young prince's countenance.

Instead, he saw something far different.

There was a look on Siddhartha Gautama's face he'd never before seen on anyone, a look of complete and absolute peace, total contentment and happiness. An inner light seemed to permeate through him as he smiled upon old Kayundinya. In that moment, the old man knew; the former prince had _done it_. Alone, sitting beneath that tree of his, he'd accomplished what was predicted to his father the king when he was still a babe. He'd become a great holy man, an enlightened one, a…

"Buddha," Kayundinya gasped, falling to his knees in reverence before Siddhartha. As the other ascetics now came over, the young prince smiled happily upon them as he held up his hands and began to teach…

-The End-

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The actual term "Buddha" refers to anybody who has become fully awakened (enlightened) and who has experienced Nirvana.


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